Some Photogs for a Change

This is Smiley.

This was a phase Paz went through for a couple weeks. She'd stuff her clothes with blankets and towels and then go to sleep.

I don't know what to say about this kid.

This was Meyer Lansky's hotel (I think). I liked the photo, She took it as we drove by.

Running to Stand Still

I've taken up running again. It hurts as much as it used to and I remember why I stopped. I run home from work on Tuesday and then back to work on Wednesday morning. This week on the morning run back to work, a car ran into me, but only a little bit. It was a little shocking--certainly not as traumatic as when a car ran over Her last year. I've experienced very little personal physical violence in my life, so it always catches me off guard. I was bitten by a dog once, punched twice, hit by a car while biking once and now hit by a car while running. Thankfully, all have been pretty minor incidents. Anyway, the collision began the morning on a weird note that wasn't at all alleviated by the crab that showed up in the bathroom while I was showering at work. I've showered with cockroaches before, but sharing that experience with a crab is something entirely different.

I should have known something was off kilter this week when I ran home on Tuesday. Once again I saw the guy who likes to stand in the busiest street in Havana and kick cars as they pass by. Luckily I spotted him early enough that I was able to avoid the reach of his lanky right leg.

Clueless

Static interrupted a lazy Sunday afternoon nap with a knock on the bedroom door and mumbled something unintelligible. I thought he said, "Paz smacked me in the head with the light saber." She thought he said, "There's a man at the door who wants to give us something." While I was closest, we were both wrong. It turns out that Paz smacked his head in the sunroom with a snake.

Always Spontaneous

We were lucky enough Friday night to attend a little jazz session the mission hosted. The night opened with one of our local employees and his band playing blues music. They weren't bad, but the quality of music went up a notch or two as they left the stage one by one and were replaced by some of Havana's greatest musicians. Chucho was there. Watch Chucho and his dad jam:



He didn't play that night, but it was fun watching his adoring fans crowd around him. We left him alone. On our last trip home, George Foreman sat next to me in the Miami airport. He was very accommodating as others said hello and asked for autographs. One fan even phoned a relative and asked George if he wouldn't mind chatting with this guy. I wanted to introduce Static to him so Stat could always say he had shaken hands with George Foreman. Another part of me, though, didn't want to bother him. An additional part of me thought that while he's talented, he's just a man and I don't really want to start teaching Static to idolize people.

Getting autographs from baseball and basketball players used to be a big deal to me. It's what I had been taught. My mom has a great story about Yankee autographs back when Joe DiMaggio played. As a kid, I got the autographs of Gus Williams, Lonnie Shelton, most of the Sonics who played the year Kareem Abdul Jabaar retired (they signed the back of the Kareem masks that were handed out that night--the Sonic organization gave Kareem a Lay-Z-Boy recliner as a token of their respect for his laudable career), and Barry Bonnell (a Mariner). I grew out of it, like I think most people do. And the autographs seem silly to me to keep now--like the envelope of all my pulled teeth that my wife made me toss out.

Anyway, I find the stories that come from such brushes with fame more valuable than a piece of paper with a name scrawled across it. I've met an interesting mix of people so far. Here are a few:


Jose Fuster

I borrowed this photo from http://www.uniquerocks.com/crazy/artist-hails-cuba-by-turning-village-into-artwork.html.




This is Fidel Castro's son, Antonio (on the right). He is the physician for the Cuban national baseball team. The photo is courtesy of El Nuevo Herald.











I only met one of these guys--the one on the left. They are Dynamic Duo--Korean rap artists. I borrowed the photo from a website that had borrowed it from someone else.





I do realize that it's good for children to look up to people who have had the drive and discipline to compete at the top levels of their professions. But in the airport, introducing my 6-yr. old to a man he's never heard of--it wouldn't mean anything. We left him alone, too.

Anyway, the guys that did play Friday night were phenomenal. I recognized some from Canal Habana's "Habana Jazz" program. We had to leave pretty early to get home to the kids--we only keep our nanny until 9 or so on Friday nights, but we wished we could have stayed longer.

Paz stepped on a piece of glass Saturday morning. There's been a lot of screaming, carrying and limping since then. She'll be okay. That afternoon we enjoyed a production of Pedro y el Lobo as presented by a group of Cuban children whose lives have been affected by cancer. We've been to a few events with them and it's always an enriching and tender experience. They're very fun. You can find out more about them here: Carmen y Rey. There's a PDF in English at the bottom of their initial web page.

This is a longer post than I intended and it's getting late. It's taken me a long time to put together because my internet's really slow. That's partly because I connect via this satellite dish and partly because I'm trying to download my wife's birthday present.

Dead Presidents

I love holidays here. Since Static and Paz are in Cuban schools, they don't get the same holidays. This means that almost every national holiday is a day I get to spend alone with her. We try to take advantage of the time and be productive. We had a long list of errands to run yesterday and, after enjoying some softball in the morning, headed out to start checking off the list. First item: visit the dry cleaners. We went to a hotel where we had heard there was a dry-cleaners. The front desk told us there was a laundry and that it's only open between 9 and 4. We were within those hours. She added that it was closed that day--and they don't do dry cleaning. Bueno.

Next item: find a piece of art for somebody. This task actually went fairly well, so doesn't make much of a story.

Next item: frame the paintings we had bought last month. We had heard that there was a frame shop in the Manzana de Goma. That translates to either the Tire Block or Rubber Block. I'm not sure which. We had heard that it was close to the Capitol building. We parked in front of the Capitol, hopped out with our one large piece of art and two smaller pieces and asked around until we found the Block. Apparently it's a mall of sorts. We asked around inside for a frame shop, but nobody seemed to know of one. One passerby was determined to help us. She said she'd take us to a carpenter who could make a frame for us. So began our winding journey on foot with a 1-meter tall painting through Central Havana. As we left the Block, she whispered, "I'm going to lead you there, but stay back from me a bit so I don't have any trouble with the police." We complied. We visited a few shops before settling on one. She negotiated the job for us and told us it was all settled. They'd make a frame for us in an hour, and it would cost $30. How convenient! We didn't even have to tell her what type of frame or what color - it was all arranged. She took the painting and told us to come back in an hour. This was the decisive moment. We could demand she return the painting and go on our own to try and find a reputable framing shop, or we could ride this one out and see what we ended up with. For two non-confrontational middle children, the decision was a simple one--what's the worst that could happen?

We strolled up the street and stopped at a cafe for dos limonadas frappé. The lemonades arrived, but they were just regular lemonades with a lot of ice. I got the waiter's attention, "These were good. Can we get two more, but this time, frappéd?"

"I put ice in those," he replied.

"Yes, I know, but . . ."

"Oh, yeah, ummm, the blender's broken."

We paid and left. We still had plenty of time, so we decided to try and locate the other frame shop we had heard about. We never found it, but we met a mathematics professor who invited us to a musical tribute to the Buena Vista Social Club member who passed away last week and a couple who wanted me to help them emigrate. We returned to the park near the carpenter's shop and awaited the signal from our liaison. She appeared but signalled that there were too many police in the area and we would have to wait. After a few minutes, she reappeared and led us back (maintaining our distance, of course) to the carpenter's shop. The frame wasn't ready. We waited another hour before it was. Because she had to wait so long, our go-between demanded a 50% increase in her finder's fee. I said no. They brought out the newly framed painting. It doesn't look very nice. The frame consists of 4 routed pieces of bare, unsanded, cheap wood with saw burns and nail heads poking out of the corners. The frame doesn't really fit, either--it's a little big. Que sera, sera. We put the rustic piece of art in the car and skipped to the end of our to-do list.

The adventure had taken the whole afternoon and made her physically sick. We got home and I made dinner while she threw up and then napped. I made myself a strawberry milkshake (someone had sold us 4 liters of freshly-picked strawberries for $11) and then worked on our car (which still isn't ours because we're waiting on paperwork processing allowing us to buy it that we submitted two months ago).

Contagion

While putting Paz down for the 10th or 11th time last night, I noticed a topical abnormality. She had a rash around her armpits and on her belly. She didn't seem the least bit agitated by it, though. We applied some lotion and put her to bed again. Those areas had cleared up by morning, but her legs had become slightly rashy. We put more cream on and sent her to school. The school called shortly after lunch and asked us to come get her. The rash had spread to her face, arms and legs. We brought her into the doctors who looked her over and were able to say what it wasn't, but are at somewhat of a loss as to what it is. They gave me a bottle of Calamine and we sent her home. She's in bed now and won't go to school tomorrow. I hope it's nothing serious and clears up soon.

Millie

We have this gecko. We call her Millie. She crawled in through our bedroom window shortly after we arrived and has made our house her home. She's welcome. She just hangs out on the ceiling and looks for ants to eat. She's great to have around. I took this photo of her. I know it's not that great a picture, but I didn't want to take any more because I think the flash is too much for her. Kind of like taking photos of a newborn baby.